A False Sense of Betrayal
by Little Asian Girl
Summary: Jane is dead. Murdered in cold blood. It takes Thor longer than it should to realize who killed her. Or... who he thinks, killed her. A one character genderbend spin-off. I own none of the characters and the original story is by LadyMoriel (Thank you!)


**Hello! So this is just going to be a one-shot genderbend. (again :-)**

 **It's a slight twist on the original story "Betrayal" which I was kindly given permission to re-write (Thank you so much LadyMoriel!)**

 **I'll place a link to the original story at the end.**

 **Enjoy!**

~o0o~

Several seconds after he found Jane's body, Thor couldn't comprehend what he saw.

She was sprawled on her back, covered in her own blood. Her lifeless eyes were wide with terror, staring at the dismal sky above. The source was clear: a long, jagged wound gaped open under her jaw. The crimson color was a stark contrast to her pale skin.

It is not possible. It is not possible. He'd promised he would find a way to save everyone and he'd brought her here for a reason and she'd _trusted_ him and this could not have happened, not now, not already—

He was so lost in denial that he barely realized he had fallen to his knees by her body, and at first he didn't see the silver knife still lying next to her head. When he did, it took him much longer than it should to recognize it.

It was Loki's knife. It was his sister's knife.

For a moment he was stone still, unable to see or move or think, and then a sound behind him broke through his shock: the quiet scrape of leather boots over gritty soil as someone tried to back away.

Suddenly he could feel again, only he felt nothing but rage—not the wild berserker fury in the heat of battle. This rage is just as blinding and yet it seems to give deadly, razor-sharp clarity. It is a freezing cold, like ice, like Jotunheim, like the Frost Giant he once called sister.

He snatched the knife, ignoring the sharp blade cutting into his palm **,** and lifted it up to the dimming sun. The light reflected off it casting bright rays of light in the dark background. What caught his attention was the red edge of the tip, staining the otherwise pristine knife.

Thor rose and turned in one quick motion. Loki was several paces away, tensed to flee, but between the jagged, towering rocks all around them and the fact that Thor can fly, she had nowhere to go.

"What is this?" Thor asked in a monotone voice, completely devoid of emotion. Loki swallowed nervously and licked her dry lips, but she didn't answer. Thor lost his patience. "What is this?" He roared, his voice reverberating across the wasteland. He growled as Loki flinched.

"It is a knife. It's… My… Knife" Loki said quietly. Tentatively. Red filled his vision as Loki confirmed what he had already known.

He was conscious of only one distinct thought: _Enough_.

At Thor's look she raised her hands, palms out in as much of a placating gesture as she could make with her wrists bound tightly together. "I didn't do this," she says. "Thor, wait, for once in your life and please _listen_ to me—"

Thor is far, far beyond listening. He advanced on Loki, Mjolnir heavy in his hand. "You will never be satisfied, will you? You would take everything from me—my family, my throne, even the woman I love—"

"I didn't," Loki insisted, still trying to retreat. She stumbled over a rock and barely caught herself. "I haven't been out of your sight—stop and think, this is what Malekith wants!"

"No more." Thor was so cold he burned, fingers so tight on Mjolnir's handle that he can't feel them. "No more. I said that when you betrayed me, I would kill you. I keep my word."

Loki stumbled again, her expression shifting as if she hadn't _believed_ , and she tried to sneer but it didn't look quite right. Thor noted distantly that Loki's outstretched hands have started to shake. "You would attack me when I am bound and unable to even defend myself? How very honorable of you. Odin would be proud."

Thor didn't slow. "You care nothing for honor. Why should I?"

"Thor," Loki says, and Thor didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to listen to a single more lie. He would not. He swung Mjolnir without any conscious thought, sending Loki flying back to slam against the cliff with stunning force and collapse to the ground. She struggled to rise as Thor strode toward her, only her arms didn't seem to want to take her weight, and Thor realized just as distantly, that with her upraised hands in the way, his sister (not his sister) likely already has broken bones from the first blow. He should feel pleased about this, he thinks, or dismayed, or something, but he only felt the unrelenting cold.

Loki hadn't even managed to make it to her knees by the time Thor reached her, and when she looked up her face was tight with pain and genuine fear and something else that Thor didn't bother to identify. He was aware of a dull, vicious satisfaction that finally, finally, after all the death and havoc and terror this Jotun runt caused, finally she herself is helpless and afraid, with nothing to hope for but mercy she has no reason to expect. (A faint thought at the back of Thor's mind said no, this can't be right, Loki is well acquainted with fear and despair, perhaps more than anyone ever guessed—but this too withered to nothing in the icestorm of rage.)

Thor roughly grabbed at her long black hair and yanked her up. She winced, as he glared into her eyes, her thin hands curled protectively into her chest. His grip on Mjolnir tightened, until he felt his fingernails carving crescents indent into his skin.

"No," Loki whispered her lips barely moving, "Thor, no," and then in desperation, "Brother, _please_ —" and suddenly Mjolnir wasn't nearly personal enough. The rage consumed him. He wasn't aware of dropping the hammer and shoving Loki into the cliff, or pinning her to the sharp rocks behind them, but then his hands closed tightly around Loki's slender throat and it felt _right_.

Loki jerked back, eyes widening in panic, as she scrabbled at the large coarse hands encircling her neck as her feet left the ground. Her lashes almost touched her eyebrows and Thor stared into her bright green eyes that frantically darted across his face, almost pleadingly. Jane would never be able to open her eyes again. He snarled and squeezed harder, closing her off completely, feeling her struggle futilely for air as her pulse quickened and thrummed against Thor's fingers.

This was _right_. This _was_ right.

Loki tried to twist away, tried to pull her hands up to claw at Thor's face, tried to kick him off, but she didn't have the leverage, and she definitely didn't have the strength. She was already weakening, mouth gasping open for the last breath she's never going to get. There was nothing she could do to get free, nothing she could do to stop this, and Thor knew this with the same certainty that he knows Mjolnir is his, that Heimdall sees everything, that the All-father is wise.

(that Loki is and _always_ has been his sister, no matter what else happens, and all other certainties have failed)

He was vaguely aware that Loki was barely fighting him, still shoving desperately, but ineffectively at Thor's immovable chest with her trapped, bound, and broken hands, and another faint thought comes to mind: she was not using magic. She was not using magic to free herself (Thor was not clutching empty air) or strike back, Thor was still choking her, and she was still there and surely that means something?

(if she wasn't doing magic to save herself it means she can't, her bonds haven't failed, and she can't have used magic to slip away and murder Jane)

(stop this, stop, you have to _stop_ )

The rage was an icy poison coursing through his veins and he could not listen, could not stop.

So he did not hear the voice calling his name or the tapping of running footsteps. He could think of nothing but his crushing grip on Loki's thin neck and the way he could feel the strength draining from his not-sister's body, until someone forcefully grabbed his shoulder and yelled "Thor!" right into his ear. He didn't let go, but he had the presence of mind to turn his head and look, and the sight of Jane's stricken face inches from his own was as great a shock as finding her corpse.

It would a trick, it had to be a trick, except Loki's close to passing out and Thor could feel Jane's hand on his bare arm, warm and solid and _real_. He yanked back his hands as if he'd been burnt and scrambled backwards, dropping Loki as she took a great grasp of air that turned into a painful, wracking cough.

Thor took a step back, then another. All the ice was melting and nothing made sense. Tentatively he reached out, fingers barely brushing Jane's jaw. "Thor," she says, staring at him, "what happened?"

It took him a moment to find his voice. "I thought you dead. I saw you—" He looked then, and there was no body, no blood, no knife, just the sound of Loki's ragged breathing.

"I was trapped," Jane was saying, "I don't know what happened but I couldn't get to you," and Thor couldn't listen anymore, his gaze drawn against his will back to Loki, curled on the ground and shaking, gently touching her neck. Slowly she pushed herself upright, not looking at either of them, but Thor caught sight of her face and she didn't even look angry, just…resigned. Unsurprised. As if she would have _expected_ it to happen. As if, perhaps, she had always expected it to happen from _him_.

And Thor knew that if there was any chance that existed of bringing his sister back, this time, _he_ was the one who has broken it beyond repair.

~o0o~

 **So that's it! Be sure to check out the origional story by LadyMoriel! It's really** **well written, and the feels run very deep.**

 **I'll place the link down below**

s/9830659/1/Betrayal

 **I'm also needing some new ideas for some more genderbent Loki/Fandral stories! Suggestions will be considered if you want to post them in the reviews**

 **Thank you for reading! :3**


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